After filling their starving bellies with greasy stew and quarts of ale, Andrew and Molly signed away their next four years, too sated to consider the uncertainty of the life facing them. In fact, they were signing away the certainty of poverty, degradation, and possible imprisonment had they remained. In that time, people could not expect to rise above their station. Having lost the position as farm servants to which they were born, it was unlikely they’d ever find anything more than seasonal farm employment, working mostly at planting or harvest when the workload was heavy. Starvation would likely have been their eventual lot. Should they stay in the city, it’s unlikely they’d find work. Many in their situation drifted into prostitution and crime. It is likely Molly would have dried of disease, drink, or victimization on the streets and Andrew would have ended up on the gallows or bound over as an involuntary indentured servant. Their best chance for a better life lay with the choice they’d made.
Once they’d signed, the agent wasted no time escorting them on board the Elizabeth Ann. She looked imposing from without, but her charm faded as Mr. Peabody led them deep into the bowels of the ship. Their quarters in the lowest level were dark, wet, and malodorous. There was no provision for privacy. They’d be relieving themselves in the communal slop jar, which would ostensibly be dumped periodically, unless it tipped over first. Hammocks served for sleeping. There were no other furnishings. Restricted below deck until after sailing to avoid defection, they got a measure of beer and weevilly biscuits three times a day. The smell was horrendous. After their first exhausted sleep, they awoke to find themselves a part of a growing crowd of voluntary and involuntary holdmates ranging from bonded servants like themselves to young children scooped up off the street all the way prostitutes and hardened criminals who’d barely escaped the gallows. The strong preyed on the weak. Their miserable sleep was interrupted by lighting, moaning, and the occasional fight. Periodically, the door above opened and another unfortunate joined their miserable lot.
In truth, indentured servants were enslaved for the period of their indenture, usually four to seven years, children till the age of twenty-one. Their bondage could be sold without their consent. Marriage required the master’s consent. Should women become pregnant, their period of servitude could be extended due to decreased productivity during the pregnancy. Children of unwed mothers were born free, but subject to being placed in the care of the church. Unlike slaves, the indentured could appeal to the courts to contest mistreatment and did receive twenty-five to fifty acres of land, some tools, seed, and clothing upon completing their service. Like slaves, they were most often ill-treated. Having come to the colony in this way was no impediment to their future. Many bonded servants prospered and got a good start to a free life. It definitely could be a road to a better life.
Andrew Wharton was born to be a farm servant like his father and grandfather before him, the line extending back much further than anyone bothered to remember. His work was not a choice; he was born to work Hampton Grange and expected to die there. The only surprise was when pretty Molly Peace chose him. Ecstatic in his luck, he couldn’t believe the rollicking dairy maid favored him above all the hopeful lads pursuing her when he’d done no more than sneak shy peeks at her in Chapel. The confusion of love and glorious sensuality overwhelmed the young man who’d never contemplated the possibility that life could hold pleasure. Molly saw joy in everything, the sweet breath of the cows she milked, the warmth of the sun on her face, and the sweet sent of the hay she bundled, not seeming to notice the manure in the cow’s tail, the slogging rains, or the sneezing brought on by the hay.
Over the next few years, their brood grew to include seven. The boys were tall and strong, a lot of help to Eddie, so he didn’t need Neeley’s help so much. A stern taskmaster, he was apt to take his belt to the boys should they dally. When Will, their third son was about eight, he was given the task of planting corn as his older brothers made up the rows on either side of him. The rows seemed to stretch on forever and his back ached with bending and planting four kernels per hills ten to twelve inches apart. He fell further and further behind. Desperate to catch up, he buried a big pile of seed in one hill and caught up to his brothers. It rid him of so much of the accursed seed, he repeated the process up and down the rows, finishing up in time with the rest. He thought no more about it, glad to be done with the onerous task of planting. Several evenings later, Eddie went out one bright moonlit night to check to see if his corn had sprouted late that afternoon. Indeed it had, but not all in rows like he expected. Big clumps of corn sprouts stood in patches up and down the rows. Infuriated, he knew immediately what Will had done. He strode toward the house, determined to set the boy straight. In their exhaustion, the three boys had gone to bed immediately after supper. Eddie stomped into the room snatching the covers back from the sleeping boys and started beating them with his belt. Though Will got the worst of it, the other boys suffered welts, too. Neeley heard the screams from the kitchen and burst in to stop Eddie. In his fury, he didn’t seem to notice her. Neeley .. got the fireplace poker and got between him and the boys, beating him about the shoulders. Finally, she stood him off. Threatening to crack him over the head, she assured him she’d kill him if she had to. In the face of her ferocity, he backed down, putting himself on one side of a wall and herself and the kids on another. This was repeated several times over the next few years, made worse as the boys’ hormones kicked in and Eddie aged. Neeley wondered if his meanness was due to his head jury or his nature. It could have been a combination since Eddie had learned violence at he hands of his own father, many years earlier.
Image pulled from the internet

Image pulled from internet. Note the handmaid ornaments and paper chains. The house nor the gifts are representative of Neeley’s tree.
They anticipated a bumper crop that August. Eddie’s forty acres were white with the swelling cotton bolls. An experienced farmer, he’d been at it long enough to know what his crop would bring. Even though he’d only be paid for two-thirds of the yield, this should be one of his better years. After settling up with Mr. Hathaway and the grocer, he ought to be able to put away enough to start renting the next fall. He had his eye on a farm close to Neely’s mama. The house wasn’t much better than this one, but at least he wouldn’t be sharecropping.
